Even Though You're Just a Dream
by The Lamplight Detective
Summary: She was a dream, and he had long ago learnt not to be so childish as to indulge in dreams. But her hands were gentle and her voice was soothing and he longed to be wrapped again in that innocent embrace, free from the harsh truths and pains of reality. Declan has a headache and Aurora comforts him. Declan/Aurora fluff. Pre-series.


Even Though You're Just a Dream

Declan is 16, Ronan is 14 and Matthew is 11 (I'm not totally sure about these age differences, sorry!)

Just some fluff I was inspired to write about halfway through reading Call Down the Hawk.

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Declan's head hurt. It had hurt all week when he woke up, and it had hurt all week at school and it had hurt all week when he'd gone to bed. The pain had come in waves, but it had never left him, always simmering somewhere behind his eyes. Now it had finally become too much for him and he was curled up on his bed, lights off, trying to block out the sounds of the Barns. Ronan and Matthew were wrestling in the next room, their limbs and laughter bouncing off the wooden floors. Declan pressed his fingers into his skull and tried to stop his thoughts from spilling out.

The door cracked open, the sound like wood splintering beside his ear. A whimper quivered into the air and it took his mind a moment to connect the sound with himself.

'Declan?' Aurora's voice, with its delicate sing-song tones, burst into the room, as sharp as a slice of light piercing into darkness.

Declan curled tighter into himself, trying to protect his aching head from the assault of sounds that sieged him.

'Declan, sweetheart?' Aurora sat down beside him. 'What's wrong?'

'My head hurts,' he whispered. He hadn't meant to say it. He was Declan Lynch and he would lie until his skull cracked open under the weight of them all. But it was a moment of weakness and he was so awash with pain that he was desperate for any relief. Any comfort.

Aurora made a sympathetic noise and reached over, carefully unknotting Declan's fingers from his hair and tangling her own into his curls. 'My poor baby,' she murmured, stroking his head.

Declan's first instinct was to pull away. She was a dream, and he had long ago learnt not to be so childish as to indulge in dreams. But her hands were gentle and her voice was soothing and he longed to be wrapped again in that innocent embrace, free from the harsh truths and pains of reality.

The door opened again and Niall Lynch's voice drifted into the room. 'Everything alright?'

'Declan has a headache.' Aurora kept her voice soft and her fingers in his hair.

There was a pause and then Niall said, 'Well, make sure he goes to bed early, we have to leave for Tokyo first thing in the morning.'

'Of course,' replied Aurora but when Niall had gone, she leaned over Declan and murmured softly, 'You don't have to go if you don't want to.'

'I do,' whispered Declan.

Aurora didn't argue but she brought her other hand up to stroke Declan's forehead.

Outside in the corridor, Matthew screamed in delight and pounded across the floor, Ronan's boots charging after him. Declan cringed at the vibrating footsteps.

'I'll tell them to keep it down,' said Aurora, and she rose from the bed.

Declan longed for her soothing touch as soon as it vanished, but he scolded himself. _She's just a dream, just a dream. _

Aurora's voice sounded from the corridor. 'Why don't you boys go and play downstairs? Declan isn't feeling well.'

Matthew, his voice still young in its soft, high pitch, said, 'Can we see him? Maybe Declan needs a hug!'

Aurora said gently, 'I think he needs some quiet right now. But maybe we can go give him a hug later. Ronan, take Matthew downstairs for me.'

Footsteps echoed down the steps and then the upstairs was mercifully quiet. Aurora creaked the door back open on feather hinges and her voice fluttered towards him. 'Declan, do you want something to eat?'

His stomach recoiled. 'No, thank you.'

'Okay. Try get some sleep.'

She started to leave, and Declan told himself again, _she's a dream, she's a dream, she's a dream. _

But even so…

'Stay?' The word came from somewhere deep inside him, the part of him that wished ardently to live in blissful ignorance as Ronan and Matthew did, to see her only as Aurora, loving mother, and not Aurora, manufactured mother.

For a second, he thought she hadn't heard him. Then the mattress dipped beside him and her hands tangled in his hair again. She began to hum a lullaby.

She might be a dream, but he was a liar; they were both formed from unreality. And who in their life has never sought comfort in a lie, or relief in a dream?


End file.
